Double Déjà vu
by MyBatBoys
Summary: Batman must race against time to save his former partner from a mad man determined to finish what he started 15 years ago.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own them. I don't make money off them. I just love them._

"_ack..ack_..." Roy waved the dust away from his face and unsteadily got to his feet. When he had decided to pop in and say hi' to Nightwing while he was patrolling in Bludhaven, he never expected to find himself at the bottom of a pile of debris, coated in drywall dust and wood chips.

"Ni_-ack_- Nightwing.." Roy called out, trying to remember what had just happened.

They had been standing on the roof of a two-story department store, talking about Lian's latest philosophical thoughts on the pros and cons between the Easter Bunny and Santa Clause.

Roy was putting in his own two cents, then realized his friend was no longer listening. Instead, Nightwing was crouched down, studying a black van parked two blocks down the street.

"What's the deal?" Roy asked, peering over Dick's shoulder.

Dick nodded his head in the direction of the van, "That van. It's been parked there for the past six hours. It was there since before I started patrolling."

Roy nodded his head. "A mystery black van is never a good thing. No houses nearby for it to belong to a resident, and none of the shops or businesses are open at three o'clock in the morning."

Dick didn't reply. Instead, he got up and moved stealthily across the rooftops until he was directly across from the building the van was parked in front of.

Roy sighed and followed suit then crouched down again, "Soooo... what's the deal?"

Dick thumbed his chin in thought, "There's been rumors that Black Mask is back in town, looking to set up business again. I'm thinking that's why it's parked outside Divinci's restaurant. He's the top Boss in town and the only one to stand in Black Mask's way."

Roy pulled out his own night vision goggles and zoomed in through the window, then switched to infrared. "Yep, there's definitely something going on in there. A meeting of some sort. About eight of them. I doubt one of them is Black Mask though."

"Nah. He wouldn't dirty his hands with grunt work. He'll sit back and let his hench men do the work for him for now... uh oh."

Roy glanced at his friend and noticed his body had become rigid in an instant. "What?"

"Not good."

"sigh What?" Roy asked, getting impatient.

"There." Roy looked to the front of the restaurant and saw four men exit. One stood on the front step and took a long drag on his cigarette as the other three got into the van and started it up. The van pulled up in front of the man. He looked around a couple times before flicking the cigarette in the street then climbed into the van.

"What do you ..." Roy's allowed his sentence trail off when saw Dick was no longer crouched down beside him, but rather, had already swung across the street and was sneaking around the back of the restaurant.

"Damn, silent, antisocial, Bats..." Roy muttered under his breath as he shot off a line arrow into the restaurant across the street. He snapped the pulley on and jumped off the rooftop.

He was about drop down on the sidewalk when the building burst into flames. The force of the blast ripped his hands free from the pulley and slammed him to the ground.

The next thing he remembered was the sound of his own pulse roaring in his head with a blinding force. His lungs burned from the dust and smoke of the former restaurant, now completely leveled and engulfed in flames.

Roy pushed himself out from under the rubble and tried to focus his vision while cutting through the murky consciousness clouding his thoughts. Dick!' Roy remembered. He had gone around the back of the building even before I made it across the street to follow.'

"Nightwi _-ack_ ng!" Roy called out, ignoring the pain that ripped through his head. "Nightwing!!" he paused and strained to hear any signs of life.

"Nightwing, answer me!" Roy yelled, barely able to hold back the panic that edged its way into his voice as he stumbled forward through the wreckage, desperate to find his best friend.


	2. Chapter 2

_For disclaimer and summary please see chapter 1._

_Warning: This story is Unbeta'd. I have run Spell Checker and Grammatik multiple times and I hope I caught everything. If not, I apologize ahead of time._

* * *

_Previously on Taking a second shot:_

"_Nightwing, answer me!" Roy yelled, barely able to hold back the panic that edged its way into his voice as he stumbled forward through the wreckage desperate to find his best friend.

* * *

_

"Nightwing!" Roy continued to call out while he dug through the piles of smoldering rubble. He was about to call in for help when he heard a low moan.

"Nightwing!" Roy sprang forward toward the horrific sounds of a life ending.

"Hang on, .._engh_.. Nightwing..._ggrraaagh_!!...I've got'cha, buddy." Roy called out between grunts as he heaved large pieces of concrete and wood off the wounded man channeling blinding rage into brute strength.

Roy froze when he uncovered a hand, "Nightwing... " he said just above a whisper as he fell to his knees. Roy quickly yet delicately removed the rest of the rubble to the sickening sounds of a man drowning in his own blood.

"Oracle! Get an ambulance to the corner of Clayton and Lumpkin. What used to be the Divinci's Restaurant." He demanded then swallowed the bile that rose up in his throat as he uncovered the victim's face.

"Roy? What are you doing in Bludhaven? And who needs the ambulance?"

"JUST DO IT DAMN IT!!" Roy snapped and switched off his communicator.

Roy didn't know where to start in evaluating the wounds. Black hair was soaked through with blood. His face was too swollen and scarred to identify. Roy spoke words of reassurance when his voice would allow as he continued to uncover the beaten and broken body. Roy's heart broke when he uncovered a piece of rebar protruding from the chest.

"Shhh.. It's ok.." Roy soothed when the wounded man became agitated as Roy inspected the fatal wound. There was no way of removing it without bleeding to death in seconds. As it was, his respirations had been reduced to nearly nothing.

Roy leaned in, determined to find a way ... "Oh, G-d." Roy choked as he turned to his left and vomited then spit a couple times and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath as he inspected the wound until he noticed the once-white shirt and striped tie the victim wore, sending the flurry of emotions that had wracked his mind and body to the pit of his stomach.

Roy cursed at himself as his eyes misted over with the overpowering sense of relief, while the man before him, lay there dying. This man had a family somewhere and was no less important than Dick.

"It's ok, hang on for me... we have an ambulance on the way. You're going to be ok. Just hang on." Roy tried his best to look positive before the fear-stricken victim.

"..mmgng... guuhhhhahh... guuhuuuuuhaha..." The man tried to communicate to Roy but it only came out in a gurgle of blood bubbles.

"Don't try to speak. Save your strength. You'll pull through just fine..."

The man slowly and painfully pawed the inside of his suit coat. Roy furrowed his brow and peeled the coat back... "The pocket?" Roy asked. The man tried to nod as blood, forth with air from his destroyed lungs flowed out his mouth and nose.

Roy reached in and removed the man's wallet and opened it for him. A sad smile formed as a tear escaped out of his eye, cutting a trail through the soot and blood caked on his face.

The man took a bloody finger and touched the face of a young girl in a photo with her mother and this man, her father.

Roy swallowed hard, she couldn't have been more than a couple years older than Lian. "Your daughter?"

The man looked back to Roy and his smile turned from sadness and regret to one glowing of pride.

"She's very beautiful." Roy smiled back.

The man stroked the outline of his daughter once more then pointed to Roy.

"I... I..I don't understand." Roy stammered.

The man coughed violently and fought for each dying breath. Roy placed his hand on the man's shoulder and prayed for the wisdom to understand this father's dying request before it was too late.

The man struggled to push through his body's will to cease living and slid his finger to the other side of the wallet and came to rest on his driver's license. He pointed again to Roy then back to his daughter. Roy turned the wallet to see a bloody finger print on top of the man's State Id number.

Slowly Roy nodded, "I'll tell your family of how you fought boldly against the will of nature to pass along this message of love to your family, that this was the only thing on your mind and in your heart." Roy placed his hand on the man's shoulder again as he looked into Roy's brilliant green eyes. "I give you my word, Peter."

The man gave Roy a simile laced with peace and gratitude, then closed his eyes and exhaled his dying breath.

Roy placed his hand on the man's head and said a Navajo prayer to guide his spirit to the heavens and grant him the forgiveness for poor choices made in this life.

He remained kneeling as the medics ran from the ambulance while police officers and firemen began the laborious process of looking for survivors under the demolished building, all knowing that their search would prove to be in vain. Including Roy. What was once a feeling of relief, had turned into a gut-twisting pang of loss.

He quickly removed the license and family photo then placed the wallet back into the man's coat. Slowly he stood upright and walked back toward the street.

Roy stood there and gazed at the stars for a moment then closed his eyes and took a couple cleansing breaths from the crisp night air. When he was certain that his voice would not fail him, he clicked on his communicator once again. "Arsenal to Oracle." He paused to clear his throat, "Come in Oracle." Roy said as he began to walk over to where he dropped his bow and froze half way there.

On top of his bow lay a Birdarang. It was positioned too perfectly to have been dropped or thrown.

Someone was trying to tell him something.

Roy shot upright and darted his eyes from alleyways to rooftops, trying to find some sort of clue as to whom and why when suddenly, his shadow was standing before him. He whirled around to the sight of a large vehicle barreling down at him. Roy dove out of the way just in time to keep from becoming road pizza by the same black van that had been parked near the restaurant earlier.

Faster than he could think he snatched an arrow from his quiver and rolled onto his side, before releasing the draw. The arrow shot off straight and true as it flew parallel to the ground. Gravity struggled in vain against the powerful rare-earth magnet imbedded in the head of the arrow. Though gravity, be it a powerful force, could not prevent the arrow's union with the undercarriage of the van seconds before it drove out of sight.

"Oracle! Come in, NOW!"Roy barked into his communicator.

Roy considered immediately going off to find Nightwing, but figured whoever would have had enough balls to capture a son of The Bat ... and successfully pull it off, would have made certain they were well prepared and armed for any rescue attempt. He'd be of no help to Dick if he were dead.

"What in the HELL is going on out there, Harper?!?" a voice that was much lower and much more intimidating than Barbara's answered his transmission.

"Nightwing's been ... abducted."

Pause.

"Haul your ass back to the cave. Now." Batman growled then ended the transmission.

"Waaaaay ahead of ya, Bats." Roy said to himself, a large grin spreading across his face as he watched a red blinking dot from the tracking arrow move across his G.P.S. unit.

* * *

_Thank you very much for reading and rest assured ... I'm feverishly working on the next chapter._


	3. Chapter 3

_A big thanks goes out to ALSW for the Beta job. _

_Sorry I missed the deadline Sparky. Will a sneak peak of the next chapter make it up to ya?_

_For summary and disclosure, please see Chapter 1._

* * *

_Previously in Chapter 2..._

_"What in the HELL is going on out there, Harper?!?" a voice that was much lower and much more intimidating than Barbara's answered his transmission._

_"Nightwing's been ... abducted."_

_Pause._

_"Haul your ass back to the cave. Now." Batman growled then ended the transmission._

_"Waaaaay ahead of ya, Bats." Roy said to himself, a large grin spreading across his face as he watched a red blinking dot from the tracking arrow move across his GPS unit._

* * *

Chapter 3

Batman checked the cameras when the cave's proximity alarms sounded. He took quick strides to the Jeep that had pulled into the cave.

"Harper...Report!" Batman demanded as he neared the front of the vehicle.

Batman stepped around the open driver's door, "I said...Roy?"

"Alfred, we're going to need your help over here."

"Roy!" Tim exclaimed, shocked at the sight of Batman carrying the unconscious archer into the infirmary.

"Did he tell you what happened?" Alfred asked as he irrigated and stitched up a gash to the side of Roy's head.

"No. He was unconscious, slumped over the steering wheel when I got to the vehicle." Batman paced between the bed and the door.

"Try not to fret so, Master Bruce, nothing positive will come of it. Master Roy's injuries are not severe and he shan't be out for much longer."

Batman seemed relieved for a moment that Alfred had finished attending to Roy, "Damn right he's not." Batman said as he removed the smelling salts from his utility best and waved them under Roy's nose.

A second or two later, Roy woke with a start. He bolted upright on the exam table and grabbed Batman by the collar of his cape.

"Roy." That was all Batman had to say to get through to the confused young archer.

"Wha... Where...?" Roy stammered and looked around the room.

"You're in the cave." Batman answered while releasing Roy's clutching hands from his cape and laid him back down.

"Cave...? Wait a minute... NIGHTWING!" he blurted out and sat up on the table again. "Ungh..." Roy groaned and placed both hands to his head.

"Master Roy, I really must insist that you remain laying down. You have a mild concussion and need to rest," Alfred said then placed an ice pack on his head.

"Thanks for the patch up job, Alfred, but give me a couple aspirins and let's get going on finding Dick."

"Let's start by telling me exactly what happened tonight," Batman said in a deep tone that made it perfectly clear it was not a suggestion.

"I dropped in to see Dick..."

Batman cut him off, "What time?"

"Uh... about 10:40."

"Continue."

"Right. Well, I finally caught up to him about 15 minutes later on top of a two-story department store."

"What street?" Batman knew all this already from Oracle but wanted to see how much Roy remembered.

"Clayton...East Clayton."

Batman nodded, "Go on..."

Roy decided it was best to skim over the 'socializing' part, which saved him and Dick a stiff lecture on slacking off while on patrol. 'Dick can thank me later' Roy thought... " Dick pointed out a van. Said it had been there for more than six hours."

"Thanks Alfred," Roy said as he took the offered aspirin then tossed them in his mouth.

"He figured it was Black Mask tryin' to set up shop again." Roy paused to drink then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Dick got all tense and on full alert when this dude walked out of the restaurant followed by three of his buddies."

"Divinci's. Right?" Robin shouted from the computer.

"Yeah, that's right. Anyhow, the van pulls up and all four of them pile in, then take off. Wingster is already creeping around the back of the building by time the van turned the corner." Roy grimaced while flexing his swollen hand.

"You'll require an x-ray for that hand, Master Roy," Alfred said as he cleaned a particularly nasty patch of road rash to the heel of his palm.

"That'll wait for the time being." Roy turned back to Batman, "So I followed Dick down across the street. I get about 5 feet from the curb, just about to drop the pulley when the building explodes into one massive ball of fire. Knocked me clear across the street. I don't think I was out for more than a couple minutes cuz my ears were stilling ringing so loud I couldn't hear anything but."

"I ran over to the southwest corner, last place I saw Dick. Everyone was dead and most weren't even whole." Roy swallowed another large gulp of his drink, pushing down the bile that had rushed up at the gory flashback.

"I called it into Oracle and kept searching. Only thing resembling a person was this poor guy, drowning in this own blood. I stayed with him until he passed," Roy said, absently placing his hand on the pocked which contained the photo of the little girl. Clearing his throat, Roy continued, "I was just about to call into Oracle to report the details as I walked out into the street to retrieve my bow when the same van flipped on its high beams and came within inches of running me over."

Batman stood with his arms crossed under his cape, "Same van. This is what led you to believe Nightwing was abducted?" Batman asked with skepticism.

"Yeah, and also this," Roy said as he reached behind his back and removed the Birdarang from his belt.

Bruce took their only piece of physical evidence.

"It was laying perfectly atop my bow. Someone set it there for me to find. Someone's trying to send a message. Outsiders have plenty of baddies that wouldn't turn down a rematch. Same with the Titans, but that was so long…"

"Two Face," Batman said breaking into Roy's theories.

"Two Face? You're sure?" Robin asked as Batman handed the Birdarang back to Roy, turning it over as he did. Roy took the well-balanced weapon and ran his fingers over the scarred underside.

_eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee_

"Wake up bird brat," he heard just before a bucket of ice water was thrown at his face.

Nightwing gasped in shock. At first he was alarmed that everything remained dark after he opened his eyes. Then felt the cold, wet blindfold on the bridge of his nose and top of his ears as it tied around the back of his head. He flexed his arms which hung above his head, wrists tied together by a thick rope. He could tell his boots and gloves had been removed, So much for my nifty gadgets,' he thought.

"Da bait's up, boss."

"Good."

Every muscle in Nightwing's body tensed. He _knew_ that voice.

"Enjoy the nap, kid?" Two Face asked as he lifted Nightwing's chin. "You can deny it, but I know you're one of the Bat's brats. In fact, I'd be willing to bet, you're the first brat. Little Robin. Heh. Could have sworn I killed you. Beat you to a bloody pulp at the very least. Not the result I was aiming for. Seems like you and me, we've got some unfinished business."

Nightwing flung his head to the side, disengaging Two Face's grip on his chin. Suddenly his head was knocked back to the other side by the blow behind a stiff backhand.

"You need to learn some manners, kid," said Two Face.

Nightwing slowly turned his head to where his senses told him Two Face was and spit a bloody wad of spit, hitting the bulls eye dead on. He knew it was a stupid move and one he was about to pay for but it was imperative to show Two Face he held no power of intimidation over him. That and also to prove the same to himself.

Two Face removed a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his suit and calmly wiped his face. "No time like the present, eh, kid?" Two Face growled. "Boys, teach our young guest some manners."

Nightwing prepared himself both physically and mentally as he listened to the unmistakable sound of a wooden bat being slapped against the palm of a hand.

_To be continued..._


	4. Chapter 4

Pieces of this chapter have been taken from _Detective Comics #817_, as part of DC's One Year Later storyline.

This story has officially become AU considering this is OYL time frame and Bludhaven is a crater in the earth and Nightwing is no longer there so just to cover my tushie against angry emails, there's my disclaimer.

* * *

_For summary and disclaimer please see chapter 1._

_Thank you to ALSW for the Grammar Beta and Kanny for the Bat Beta jobs._

_Love you Gals!_

_Rated R for brief instances of strong language._

* * *

_Previously on Double Deja vu..._

_"I called it into Oracle and kept searching. Only thing resembling a person was this poor guy, drowning in this own blood. I stayed with him until he passed," Roy said, absently placing his hand on the pocked which contained the photo of the little girl. Clearing his throat, Roy continued, "I was just about to call into Oracle to report the details as I walked out into the street to retrieve my bow when the same van flipped on its high beams and came within inches of running me over."_

_Batman stood with his arms crossed under his cape, "Same van. This is what led you to believe Nightwing was abducted?" Batman asked with skepticism._

_"Yeah, and also this," Roy said as he reached behind his back and removed the Birdarang from his belt._

_Bruce took their only piece of physical evidence._

_"It was laying perfectly atop my bow. Someone set it there for me to find. Someone's trying to send a message. Outsiders have plenty of baddies that wouldn't turn down a rematch. Same with the Titans, but that was so long…"_

_"Two Face," Batman said breaking into Roy's theories._

_"Two Face? You're sure?" Robin asked as Batman handed the Birdarang back to Roy, turning it over as he did. Roy took the well-balanced weapon and ran his fingers over the newly scarred underside._

* * *

Chapter 4

"He **_changed_**? Are you **nuts**?!" Roy fumed as he paced the floor of the cave. "What in the _HELL_ were you thinking? Were you so fucking desperate to blow town that you left your precious city in the hands of a mad man?!"

"Roy..." Tim tried to mediate. From what he saw, this conversation had excellent potential for a disastrous clash of emotions.

"Don't, Tim. Just don't," Roy interjected, locked in a glaring match with Bruce as a fire of furry burned behind his intense emerald eyes.

"Back off Harper," Bruce warned in a low growl that is usually saved for the most detestful foe.

Roy knew he was walking a very fine line with the Bat. But he was too infuriated to back down now. Roy risked taking a step closer then spoke through clenched teeth, "I want to know exactly what gave you the idea to put Two Face in charge during your absence."

"I don't need to explain anything to you." Bruce answered with a cool tone.

"The fuck you don't!" Roy exploded, his face red with emotion, "My best friend, his brother, _YOUR SON,_ is being held captive by this **freak** and now that your actions have affected us all, especially Dick, you don't owe an explanation? Just because you're the big bad scary Bat-friggin'-man?!" Roy spat.

It was that very moment when Roy discovered where that line he'd been walking, ended as he found himself sprawled to the floor within a fraction of a second.

Bruce reached down and yanked the young archer up by the collar and pulled him inches from his face. "Do not _attempt_, to tell me what I owe _you_ or anyone else."

Tim placed his hand on Bruce's shoulder. "Bruce. Roy may not be the best with tactfulness ... but he deserves to know. At least some of it."

Bruce pulled Roy in an inch closer before pushing him away with a hard shove. He then turned and punched a few keys at the large computer mainframe. In an instant the screen displayed Two Face, "You need no introductions here."

Bruce punched a couple other keys, "This." He paused until an image of a handsome man surfaced, "Is Harvey Dent."

Roy looked between the two and nodded. "So he got reconstructive surgery. Again."

"Yes. That was four years ago. For the entire next year I had him evaluated intensely by the top psychiatrists in the world. They all came to the same conclusion, Only the Harvey Dent persona existed. After four years of unwavering stability, I believed him to be truly healed. Last year I trained Dent and asked him to be Gotham's protector in my stay. He was reluctant to accept, but did in the end. We trained for a month and after successfully recapturing Firebug and Mr. Freeze, both he and I felt he was ready to step into the role."

Bruce paused then punched a few more keys, "It wasn't before too long, Harvey found enjoyment in his new role, but his methods were too extreme and less refined than those I'd taught him."

Roy stood, mouth agape as images of beaten and broken criminals flicked past the large screen.

"Upon my return, Dent felt unnecessary and unappreciated. Those feelings were intensified by a series of mysterious killings that appeared to have been committed by Two-Face."

After another series of keystrokes the profiles of the KGBeast, Magpie, The Ventriloquist, and Orca tiled across the screen. "They were all shot once in the head with a double-barreled pistol."

"Making Dent look mighty suspicious." Roy said while reading coroner's summary under each victim.

"Exactly," Batman answered. "I confronted Dent and asked him to confirm that he was not responsible. He refused to give me a definite answer."

"Oh _come ooon_... **You** couldn't get an answer?" Roy scoffed.

"Before I had a chance speak with him further, he set off a bomb in his own apartment and fled."

"All right. So then what?" Roy asked, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Apparently, Dent suffered a crisis of conscience..."

"Surprise, surprise..." Roy muttered.

"Don't push it, Roy," Tim said as Bruce glowered at him.

"Although I uncovered evidence that cleared Harvey Dent for the murders, it was too late to do anything to save him. He resented the fact that I questioned him, became paranoid and scarred half his face with nitric acid and a scalpel, becoming Two-Face once again. This.." Bruce scrolled down the page and stopped, "Is his most recent appearance."

"So you think he took Dick to get to you?" Roy asked.

"No," Bruce turned around and looked at Roy. "I _know_ he did."

"Why though? You proved his innocence."

"It doesn't matter. Not for him. It was already too much. Two Face had already returned to bear the pain and anger for Dent. Despite the fact that Batman constantly defended Dent to the authorities, he blames him for his return. Two-Face immediately went on a rampage, threatening to destroy the Gotham Zoo. He retained two of every animal..."

"Including two humans," Tim added.

"He escaped the authorities before I arrived on the scene. Left a message that he would 'fight Batman another day.' Currently he is at large, and his whereabouts and motives have been unknown."

"Well, not _completely_ unknown," Tim muttered.

"Shit! I should have followed them when I was in Bludhaven!" Roy cursed.

"You would have been no closer than we are now, as it is you barely made it back here before you lost consciousness."

"But I was _there,_ I should have followed the tracker _then_. Now the damn signal is lost!" Roy growled.

"Should'a Would'a Could'a never helped in any situation, Master Roy. However, deciding the next move will." Alfred said with a smile.

Roy sighed, "Yeah.. Ok. So who's got the first idea?"

"Uh... I might." Robin said a light panel flashed red. "Looks like Gordon's lit the signal."

Within seconds Alfred was left standing in the cave accompanied only by the smoke of burned rubber and a squeal of tires.

_eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee_

Commissioner Gordon stood in the cold night air as the smoke from his pipe swirled through the light of the signal which pierced the night sky.

"Jim."

Gordon turned around, surprised to find a third vigilante meeting him on the rooftop that night. "And you are?"

"Arsenal." Roy replied from the shadows.

Gordon walked up to Batman and handed him a plastic evidence bag, "This was delivered to me 10 minutes ago. How long's he been missing?"

Batman took the bag which contained the top to Nightwing's costume along with an unmarked CD.

"Just under three hours," Robin answered.

Gordon called to Batman as he shot off a grapnel from the rooftop ledge, "Let me know if we... if I can do anything."

Batman gave a quick nod then disappeared.

* * *

_Yes, it does seem unbelieveable that Batman had Harvey Dent take over Gotham while he was away. I promise you it did happen. Read the issue if you don't believe it._


	5. Chapter 5

_Previously on Double Deja Vu . . ._

_Gordon walked up to Batman and handed him a plastic evidence bag, "This was delivered to me 10 minutes ago. How long's he been missing?"_

_Batman took the bag that contained the top to Nightwing's suit along with an unmarked CD._

_"Just under three hours," Robin answered._

_Gordon called to Batman as he shot off a grapnel from the rooftop ledge, "Let me know if we . . . if I can do anything."_

_Batman gave a quick nod then disappeared._

_

* * *

  
_

**Chapter 5**

Back at the Batcave the Dark Knight carefully removed Nightwing's top from the evidence bag and placed it on the exam table, carefully looking it over, front and back under the light of a magnifying lamp.

Roy paced behind Batman, literally biting his tongue to keep from snapping at him to forget the damn shirt and put in the CD already. Finally Batman decided the quick inspection would have to do for now and picked up the CD and inserted it into the computer. A single hyperlink appeared.

Batman narrowed his eyes behind the slits in his mask, "Computer, scan link and verify."

It only took a second for the results: "SCAN COMPLETE. WEBSITE VALID."

"Connect."

The screen flickered for a moment before an old fashioned black-and-white movie countdown spiraled its way across the screen, '3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . . '

The three heroes watched in silence waiting to see if their friend, brother--son, were alive or dead.

The screen went black for a second before a room slowly came into focus, too dim to make anything out.

A loud, audible click echoed throughout the room and suddenly an overhead light shined down upon a limp figure tied to a chair.

The camera came into focus then zoomed in on one of the many steel beams that stretched across the ceiling. Attached to that beam was a rope. All three unconsciously held their breath as the camera slowly panned down along the length of rope. It then zoomed out, allowing its audience to see the full picture.

Tied to the chair, sat Nightwing.

"Oh hell," Tim said as Roy stood behind him, muttering obscenities under his breath.

Batman, meanwhile, clenched his fists tight enough to split his gloves as he took in his son's continence.

The camera slowly began to pan around its target, showing numerous bruises in various shades of black and blue. The blindfold he still wore was stained down the left side with blood from an open wound to his head. Without the top of his suit, his body trembled against his injuries and the cold.

"Welcome, Batman. I hope you're enjoying the program you've just tuned into," Two-Face said from somewhere off-camera. "As you can see, I have something you want... Go on, kid. Say hello to Daddy Bat."

All three viewers held their breath when Nightwing didn't move; head hung low. He was obviously unconscious.

"Sorry, Bats. We've been working on improving our manners," Two-Face reported as he entered the picture and stood before Nightwing. "And, honestly, I thought we were making progress. Excuse us for a moment."

Tim tried not to flinch when Two-Face grabbed a fistful of hair and jerked Nightwing's head back, his twisted and deformed face only inches from his brother's.

"Wake up, you little shit! We've got company," Two-Face shouted and stared at the unresponsive face for a moment.

"Hmph. Still being obstinate I see," he said with a grunt and yanked his hand away causing Nightwing's head to fall lifelessly to his chest. "Seems like it's time for another round of tough love."

Two-Face took a step back and rolled up his sleeve. "Believe me, kid. This is gonna hurt you a lot more than it will me," Dent said then drove his fist into the hero's deeply-bruised side.

Fierce emerald eyes narrowed and Roy felt a combination of rage and disgust surge through his body, igniting every nerve. His body burned with fury as he watched his best friend wheeze for air, "What's the point? What does he _want_?" Roy growled.

"For us to watch." Batman answered, his voice ominous.

Tim looked at his mentor for a moment before Two-Face's voice brought his attention back to the screen.

"Like I was saying, Bat-brat, say hello to Daddy."

The slightest smirk ghosted its way across Nightwing's face and, as soon as it appeared, it was gone, however not before the three viewers caught the message: 'I'm okay.'

A mere second after he was able to send that message his world spun from a sudden punch to the side of his head. Nightwing had lost count as to how many times he'd lost consciousness. But, what he did know, was this was not going to be one of them.

Batman watched helplessly as one of his greatest nemeses rained down blow after blow to Nightwing's injured body. After one final punch across Nightwing's face, Two-Face stepped back and shook his hand as Nightwing spat blood from his mouth.

"Enough, kid. It's been fun, but play time's over–-rig it boys," Two-Face said as he took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped Nightwing's blood from his knuckles.

"Sure thing, boss," one of the thugs said as they cut the rope from around Nightwing's ankles and waist.

Nightwing tilted his head slightly, trying to visualize what was happening around him. He felt the bonds release at the same time but before he had a chance to make a move he experienced a strange sensation of Deja Vu when the noose slipped over his head. It was yanked taut and he gasped for breath as he was hauled to his feet by his neck. Nightwing tried to flex the muscles in his neck to alleviate some of the pressure the noose squeezed against his windpipe but it had cinched around his neck too quickly to give him that chance. With his hands still bound behind his back by iron cuffs and a length of chain, the best he could do was to concentrate on taking shallow, controlled breaths.

"Where are they? Don't tell me you're not tracking this link. Why aren't we going after him?!" Roy demanded.

"Because we don't know what he _wants _yet," Batman growled with impatience.

Roy began to protest against Batman's aloof answer when Tim spun around and grabbed his shoulder, "We know, Roy. Okay? We know," Tim said, and Roy saw his same emotions mirrored in the young hero's eyes. "But with Two-Face you can't just barge in without knowing what his motive is. If you want to get Dick out of there, _alive_ . . . you're gonna hafta trust Batman on this one."

Roy studied Tim with pursed lips, turned his head to the side and cursed before, reluctantly, he looked back to the wall-sized computer screen. It showed Two-Face picking up a bat from off-camera, "You betrayed us, Bats and we don't take kindly to double crossers." Two-Face palmed the bat as he circled his hostage. "Thought we used too much excessive force? Heh. Well, perhaps we should demonstrate for you exactly what excessive force is!" With a wicked grin, the villain slammed his bat into Nightwing's side.

"You took something away from us and now we're going to repay the favor by taking something away from you!" Another swing and the young hero's head snapped back with a deep grunt as the bat connected with the back of his shoulders.

"This is it, Bats. I'm killing two birds with one stone . . . " a right hook to the face " . . . I get my revenge AND I get to finish what I started fifteen years ago." Two-Face turned and faced the camera, "And, this time you're not here to stop me. This time... the bird dies." He grinned and swinging hard, connected with the side of Nightwing's knee.

The sound of Dick's cry echoed throughout the cave, surrounding them--the link breaks and the screen goes white, "Website Unavailable" is displayed across the top.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks to Fanfiction and it's glitch on double hyphens, all of my double hyphens have been removed and replaced with double ='s. Looks stupid but I can't write with double hyphens. :)

Unbeta'd so read at your own risk...

* * *

_Previously:_

_"This is it, Bats. I'm killing two birds with one stone . . . " a right hook to the face " . . . I get my revenge AND I get to finish what I started fifteen years ago." Two-Face turned and faced the camera, "And, this time you're not here to stop me. This time... the bird dies." He grinned and swinging hard, connected with the side of Nightwing's knee._

_The sound of Dick's cry echoed throughout the cave, surrounding them-the link breaks and the screen goes white, "Website Unavailable" is displayed across the top._

* * *

The three heroes stared at the massive, white screen. Stunned silence hung between them for a heartbeat before Arsenal turned on his heel and marched across the cave floor; a string of profanities mixed between English and Dine rolled off his tongue in waves.

Walking to the edge of one of the cave's drop offs, Roy stood there for a moment with hands on hips and breathed in deeply; tilting his head back to peer off into the darkness above him. As he held that breath, he thought back to earlier that night and came up with a dozen things he could have done differently, "Should have done differently!" Roy growled, slamming a gloved fist into his palm. "Shit, Harper," he exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck and then took a seat on the ledge. Peering down at the river running below, Roy tried to let go of the feeling of helplessness that had been hovering over him ever since the explosion.

This was one of the Bat's villains and he's in Bat world now, Roy reminded himself as he flung a small rock over the edge. It didn't matter how much he wanted to just get out there and tear the city apart until Dick was found... the smartest thing he could do now, was to trust that Bruce did, in fact, know what he was doing when it came to the special breed of scum and lunacy that Gotham seemed to breed.

Taking another deep breath, Roy centered himself and then pushed to his feet and walked back over to where Batman and Robin had gathered. He frowned as Batman scrolled down through a list of words, "What's all this?"

"Trace analysis came back from Nightwing's suit." Robin answered without taking his eyes from the screen.

"Xanthan Gum, Powdered Milk, Brown Rice Flour, Baking Powder,..." Roy mumbled to himself as he read over Batman's shoulder.

Batman leaned back in his chair, "They're all ingredients that can be found in baked goods—more specifically, _gluten-free_ baked goods."

"Not very helpful, considering how many homes and restaurants have switched to gluten-free baking in the last few years," Robin pointed out.

"True," Batman paused as he zeroed in on one ingredient in particular, "However, how many homes and restaurants do you know of that have access to Calcium Propionate, Robin?"

"Calcium Propionate?" Arsenal frowned and then took a step forward, pointing at the screen, "Hey, I know that one!"

Batman swiveled his head to look at Roy, an eyebrow raised under his cowl. Roy couldn't see it, but he knew the look was there.

"What?" he asked defensively and shrugged, "Lian wanted me to buy her these donuts from the store not too far back... I said no, but she wouldn't let up and so I picked up the package and pointed to one of the longest ingredients I could find. Told her it wasn't good for her. She let it go but I went ahead and looked it up when we got home in case she called me on it later==" Roy waved the story away, "Anyway, it's a preservative==used to hold off bacteria and mold on baked products."

"Correct." Batman answered as he pulled up a new window on the Crays, "But, is primarily used by commercial bakeries==Computer: Show me all bakeries specializing in gluten-free edibles in a one-hundred-mile square radius. Add search field. Modus Operandi: Two-Face."

Arsenal leaned toward Robin, shielding the side of his mouth with a stiff hand and spoke out the other side, "You'd think he'd shorten that to: M.O. by now."

Robin snorted.

Bruce pretended not to hear the exchange. Allowing a little light, even during the darkest of situations, helps to keep you sane. Dick had taught him that.

"Search Complete." A slightly robotic, female voice announced and they watched as a holographic, 3D map materialized before them and spun slowly, clockwise: "Twice As Nice Bakery==42nd and Elm Street, Gotham."

"How many?" Roy asked Robin who was laying on his stomach on the bakery rooftop, busy counting the occupants through the roof's skylight with his infrared lenses.

"I've got twenty three," Robin answered as he flipped through the setting of his lenses, bringing them down to f/22 while boosting the ISO to 1600, allowing a him a tighter focus. "One right in the middle; looks to be standing still==I'll lay you odds that's Nightwing."

"Move in." Batman gave orders and within seconds, the three vigilantes were inside and at opposite corners within the rafters of the structure, leaving the fourth corner as their escape route.

"That was 'Wing, all right." Roy whispered into his comlink, observing the scene below him, "...and by the looks of it, we'd better hurry up and get him out of there==he's not holding up so good," Arsenal growled, observing how the noose allowed his friend no slack, squeezing tighter with each falter of his injured body.

"Robin, you're on rescue detail; Arsenal and I will jump in first, create a distraction and redirect their attention away from you as much as possible."

"Roger." Robin confirmed as he stood at the edge of the rafter.

"Arsenal, on my go, you're to sever the noose then immediately shoot off three explosive arrows in a semi-circle toward the northeast group of thugs. I'll be making my entrance immediately after, before the smoke clears."

"Copy that," Arsenal replied, already in motion during Batman's orders, ducking past crossbeams before choosing his location. Taking a knee, he extracted the necessary arrows from his quiver.

Roy thumbed the first, and most important, arrow a couple of times, testing its razor-sharp edges to insure a flawless connection with the rope. He placed it against his bow and pulled back on the draw, giving it the precise amount of tension for it's intended purpose—there was no margin for error here.

"Get ready, people. On my mark..." Batman's dark voice warned.

Whirling his Bat-grapnel in a tight rotation, Robin allowed the line in his hand to slip out until it reached the length necessary to hook on the crossbeam he'd chosen upon reaching his assigned position. Standing on the edge of the rafter, he remained focused and calmly awaited the signal. He'd tossed his Bat grapnel over the crossbeam, pulled it taut and was forcing himself not to pay attention to the scene below. Instead, he continued to map out and memorize their surroundings and escape route. He anticipated it would take no longer than 37 seconds to drop down, toss Nightwing over his shoulder and exit stage left.

Roy breathed deeply a couple times and concentrated on keeping his respirations even and smooth as his vision narrowed, blocking out everything but his target: a length of rope 1.5 inches in diameter== 217 feet away.

Drawing in another breath, he trapped it in his lungs and closed his eyes in meditation, blocking out sounds and smells just as he'd been taught by his Navajo family when he was just a young boy.

Exhaling slowly, Roy opened his eyes to find an empty building. No crates covered with dust-laden tarps; no fire crackling in various metal drums; no criminals laughing and jeering at their object of entertainment; no brother with a jaw line stretched and rubbed raw from the abrasive rope; no angry vigilantes prepped and ready to end this. There was no longer anyone or anything in the warehouse except Arsenal–-and the rope.

Nightwing's consciousness had begun to fade in and out as the noose around his neck tightened each time his trembling legs gave out on him. The sounds of jeering and mocking laughter had been replaced by the roar of his blood surging through his veins==his heart pounding faster and faster as the oxygen levels in his blood began to dip to dangerous levels.

Fighting off the darkness was becoming harder and harder. The pain from a deep knife wound to one leg and God knows what to the knee in his other leg had changed from an aching, burning, intense pain, into numbness. He no longer felt their painful warnings and didn't know they'd given out until he felt the rope squeezing off another breath of air.

The last couple times, his legs weren't sure if they would be able to stand back up. It didn't matter though, as long as he was aware, he _would_ stand back up. His body was not in control here. His mind was in charge and had won out against his body's wants and needs on more than one occasion... this one was just one more hash mark he'd add to his record.

"Engage!" Batman's command sounded in Arsenal's ear and he released the draw on his bow. The arrow shot forward, spinning through the air before making contact with the noose; its razor-sharp tip sliced through the fibers of the rope, severing all but the two strands of fibers that laid against Nightwing's throat.

Turning forty-five degrees to his right, Arsenal snatched up the next three arrows he'd laid out earlier and, holding them between the fingers of his shooting hand==he loaded, pulled and released.

Batman remained perfectly still, perched atop a pipe that snaked its way through the ceiling along his corner of the building. He gave the command and then forced himself not to give into the human mind's natural need to turn and watch their child be released from death's grasp.

Instead, he fed that need with his unwavering confidence in the young archer's undeniable–-unfathomable==accuracy.

***BAM*BAM*BAM***

Arsenal's explosive arrows connected with the floor in rapid succession.

The Bat took his cue and lept from his perch, throwing down smoke pellets in the opposite direction of Arsenal's explosion, completely immersing the group of thugs in a perfect ring of smoke. Batman took his cape in both hands and spread his arms wide, allowing it to billow behind him.

The light in the room dimmed ominously. Hacking and wheezing, the the criminals looked up through red, irritated eyes; their souls instantly filled with dread at the sight of a well-known, dark shape descending upon them from above the cloud of smoke. Many began to scatter, running for their lives from the living shadow which seemed to encompass the entire structure.

Robin saw the noose snap a second before hearing the first arrow explode. A rolling thunder of sound vibrated off the bakery's thin, aluminum walls and Robin dove from his rafter, clenching his jaw as he witnessed Nightwing's body drop to the ground.

Gunfire erupted around them as Robin swung down and landed beside his brother. Arsenal and Batman did their best to create a distraction while Robin worked to extricate Nightwing. Hot detest at the criminals burned up the back of Robin's neck and radiated through his face from hearing the sharp gasps of air Nightwing fought to breathe in "Just a sec==I've gotcha, bro."

Mind too sluggish to realize how he had dropped down to the ground, Nightwing felt a hand grip his arm and, determined to never give up, landed a solid kick with his better leg to where he sensed the unknown assailant's head was.

Robin was hyper-focused on getting Nightwing to safety and never saw it coming== and while the kick was no where near as powerful as it usually is, it was still had enough force behind it to send the young hero sprawling onto his side.

Upon feeling the connection, Nightwing immediately began to get to his feet. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to push past the agonizing pain shooting through out the entire length of his leg from his injured knee.

Dazed only for a second, Robin scrambled off the floor and rushed back, "Easy, Nightwing! It's me. Robin!" he shouted, blocking another kick. "Knock it off so I can get you out of here!"

"_Robin?..."_ Nightwing gasped as best he could, collapsing back down to the ground.

"Yeah, bro, it's me. Give me just a sec and I'll have you out of here." Voice firm with steel determination, he caught Nightwing, cradling his neck in one arm while quickly–

"**NO! Not this time!"**

Robin whirled around to see Two Face running toward them==gun drawn.

Batman heard Two Face's angry protest from somewhere within the smoke-filled room and wondered what hole he'd crawled out of. The Dark Knight had been searching for him ever since they'd set foot inside the large, industrial bakery. Zeroing in on his voice location, Batman advanced.

"I don't lose this time." Two Face said as he saw Batman barreling down upon him. Dent knew if he didn't shoot now, eliminating one of his most loathed nemeses==one that's been a nagging reminder of past failures==Batman would take him down before he could take the shot.

Two Face pointed his gun directly at Nightwing, "This time, you don't get to escape your fate."

"Harvey! Stop!" Batman shouted and threw a batara==

***BANG*BANG* **

To Robin, it all happened so fast...

Two Face aiming==Batman hurling a batarang==Arsenal's net-arrow==

Turning, Robin threw himself on top of his brother, shielding his body with his own.

_*-thwack-thwack_-*

"_**NNNAAUGH!**_" Robin cried out and arched back against the slugs, feeling them through his kevlar-lined cape and tunic as they dug into his upper back.

"..._Robin?"_ Nightwing rasped when the teen's full-body weight slammed down on top of him, "_Robin–-Robin, answer me!"_

Robin gave no reply and wasn't moving. Nightwing could feel a wave of panic briefly attempt to pull him under its tide before he forced that emotion aside and, instead, channeled it into determination. Rubbing the side of his face against his brother's shoulder, he tried to slide the blindfold off and could hear Batman and–- _Roy?_... shouting through Robin's earpiece; both demanding a response from the young hero.

"..._auugh_..." Nightwing froze at the sound of Robin's gasp, "_son== _of a_..._"

"_Robin? You== okay?" _he gasped.

Tim winced at the weak, breathy voice. "Yeah, bro, I'm okay–- I said, I'm good, guys. You can quit screaming in my ear now," Robin snapped into his comlink as he snaked an arm behind Nightwing's neck and wrapped the other around his side, swiftly bringing him up off the ground as he got to his feet.

"Here we go," Robin warned, aiming his grapnel launcher and hauled Nightwing onto his shoulder. Forcing himself to ignore the outcry of pain, he retracted the line, removing them from the ongoing battle beneath.

"We're clear!" Robin announced in his comlink to his partners as he landed with solid footing on a crossbeam in the ceiling and then hurried toward the predesignated escape route, "Hang on for me, Nightwing. Just couple more seconds," Robin promised, countering the weak grunts of pain coming from his junior mentor and shot off another jumpline.

Nightwing concentrated on breathing as the broken ribs he knew he had screamed in protest at being pressed against Robin's shoulder and, even though he still had the blindfold on, Nightwing squeezed his eyes shut as his stomach lurched with the sudden drop in altitude as they swung swiftly through the air.

As promised, Robin landed at their safe-point quickly, "I'm going to lower you down now... nice 'n gentle=='kay, Nightwing... Dick?" Robin asked and frowned at how limp the older man's body had become.

"Nightwing... !" Panic began to edge it's way around his heart when he noticed his brother's breathing had once again grown dangerously ragged and shallow. Tim scooped him up in one arm and rubbed a gloved hand on his brother's sternum with the other.

"Come on, Dick, give me a good breath... come on... good== now another..." Robin coaxed.

Nightwing breathed as deep as his injured sides would allow and relished each breath as the cool, night air soothed the fire in his aching, burning lungs, "_Robin..."_ he rasped through a bruised and swollen throat, squinting against the bright moonlight when the blindfold had finally been removed.

"I'm here, don't try to talk," Robin replied as he worked behind Nightwing's back, picking the lock on the chains that kept his wrists bound, before gently laying him back to the ground and remote-called the Redbird to their location.

"_...nnggh,_" Nightwing groaned as he rolled onto his side holding his leg with both hands, "_...my==gnngh==my knee, Robin...fuck,"_ he rasped through gulps of air, "_I think... I think it's busted."_

"Ok, ok, ...it's ok," Robin soothed, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder and removed an item from his utility belt, "Taking care of it right now," he said, and pressed an adhesive strip to Nightwing's forehead just as the Redbird came to a halt beside to them.

Robin gave the strip a few seconds to activate as it temporarily redirected pain receptors in the body without the side effects of a narcotic pain reliever. He saw Nightwing relax and knew it was working.

"Let's roll you onto your back again for a sec, slowly," Robin instructed as he took a closer look at his brother's knee. "I don't think it's broken, but it does looks nasty==possible dislocation. Let's get you up and back to the cave so Alfred can patch you up==but, don't put any weight on it. Okay?"

Nightwing nodded and struggled to sit up with Robin's help. His brother looked to him with concern, "Can you do this or do you need me to take care of it?"

"_Nah, I'm good,"_ Nightwing answered and slung an arm around Robin's shoulder, wincing as his brother slowly brought him up off the ground. Taking a few awkward steps, he tried not to put any weight on his bad knee and accepted Robin's help getting into the car.

Robin shut the door and then rounded the other side and slipped in behind the wheel. "Here," he said, reaching behind the passenger seat, producing a bottle of Alfred's personal twist on a popular sports drink. He cracked the seal and handed the bottle to his brother, "Drink this; you're dehydrated."

Dick took the bottle and Robin pretended not to notice how his brother's hands shook.

Tim cranked the heater, put the car in gear and, offering up a prayer of thanks that they'd managed to get Dick out alive, he headed back to the cave.

_To be continued..._


	7. Chapter 7

_A few notes from the author:_

_Thank you to everyone who is still following this story. I think there are only a few (two?) chapters before this story will be finished. I apologize for how long these last few updates have taken. There is nothing I can do about that at the moment because real life demands my attention more. However, I am working on this as best as I can._

_I want you to know this story is now AU because my Bruce is the Bruce from before he was sent way, way, ... way back in time. The Bruce from after the first 52. From after Infinite Crisis. K? Hope that clears things up a little. I honest haven't read comics in years and I hear since the "new" 52, he's a jerk again. Well, not in my world of fictives._

_Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and please know, if it weren't for your continued support, it probably would have never been written. It may not seem like it, but every review, favorite and follow fueled my muse and allowed this chapter to be born._

_Thank you 1,000 times over._

* * *

The night was cold and quiet; the deserted streets glistened as a light rain began to fall.

A plastic grocery bag danced along the street on a gust of wind, tumbling end over end. It caught the breeze just right and its insides expanded, allowing it to stop mid-air, seemingly frozen, before it began to gently sway back and forth back down toward the street. The bag slowed, mere inches from the ground, when a wind began to pull at it. Nearby leaves kicked up and rustled to life as headlights bore down on the it before the bag was sucked beneath the under carriage of the Redbird and spat out the back.

Inside the vehicle, Robin looked over at Nightwing, who had just drifted off in mid sentence, and quickly snatched the open drink bottle which had begun to tip out of Dick's relaxing grip.

Robin placed the bottle in the cup holder while taking another glance at his beaten friend, and then shook his head. External injuries illuminated by the glow of the dashboard lights looked angry and mean. Tim wondered briefly if they were all insane and if a higher power wasn't trying to tell them that they were all on borrowed time—gambling— and one of these times, someone was going to lose.

A glare from the rear-view mirror pierced his eyes, bringing him out of his thoughts. He looked into the mirror and saw distinctive headlights bearing down on his vehicle just as his comlink chirped in his ear, "How is he?"

Tim watched as the Batmobile sped past his driver window and took the lead. He knew the tactic— knew Bruce was preparing to clear traffic out of Tim's way even though it was unlikely that there would be any at this hour. He stole another glance before answering the question. His heart wanted to go with: broken— however, he chose the more clinical term, "Stable."

Downshifting to take a curve without using the brakes, Tim brought his full attention back to the drive. "Didn't expect to see you for a while."

"I had filled in Gordon earlier tonight. He got together a team and stormed the place shortly after you got out—" Batman broke off for a heartbeat before continuing, "You okay?"

Tim knew Bruce was referring to the shots he took earlier. Unconsciously shifting in his seat, he rolled his shoulders against the dull ache, "I'm fine; the suit held. You let Gordon take Dent in?"

"This time," came the gruff reply. Tim could hear the venom behind Batman's words and watched as the Batmobile disappeared into the side of the a hill.

Following suit, Tim drove the Redbird into the same hillside and down the cave's long, winding road. By the time he'd reached the end, Bruce was out of his vehicle and crossing in front of the Redbird's path—gloves were stripped off and he had peeled back his cowl. He walked to the passenger door, reached out, and had a grip on the handle as the car came to a halt.

Bruce opened the door and leaned in, giving Dick a quick once-over. "Is he unconscious?" he asked, removing the five-point racing harness before carefully peeling back Tim's cape.

"No. His knee is messed up; it might be dislocated— had him in a lot of pain, so I gave him something for it,"

Tim watched as Bruce lightly touched a couple of the more severe welts and cuts and saw his continence transform from concern into a controlled rage as he finished taking in the appearance of his son's beaten and broken body.

"Concussion?" Bruce asked, making eye contact with Tim as he squatted down. Gingerly he placed his hands on either side of Dick's knee, accessing the alignment.

"Yeah, but I think it's a pretty mild one."

Bruce released a breath through his nose and then carefully removed Dick from the car and gathered him into his arms, "C'mon; let's get him patched up."

"_...Again."_ Tim muttered bitterly under his breath and closed his car door.

* * *

The dream was a bad one, and he was trapped within.

Aware enough to know it was a dream, he sought out anchors to draw himself out of it, but the harder he fought, the tighter the dream's tendrils wrapped around him, digging their icy claws into his flesh. He had to resist— had to break free—.

"_Dick."_

And there is was; his anchor. Mentally reaching out, he grabbed its line for dear life and, hand over hand, followed it back toward reality.

"_Dick..."_

A cool cloth is laid upon his forehead as strong hands grip him by the shoulders and he has to remind himself not to fight against their familiar hold.

"Easy. Take it slow." The hold remains—not constrictive but firm and supportive. "It's okay. You're safe now." He knows he can trust the statement and it's that final tug on the line that brings him back to reality.

His vision is doubled and blurred at first, but cleared after a couple of blinks, "Bruce?" He asked as his mentor releases his hold. He was surprised to hear how hoarse his own voice is.

"There we are.., finally making some sense are we?" The cloth is removed and Dick looked up to find Alfred standing by the night stand where he refreshed the wash cloth into a bowl of water before leaning over him, moving the towel across his brow with gentle pats.

Dick closes his eyes and relished in the comfort for a moment, using it to bring down his heart rate and to expel any lingering remnants of the nightmare. He tried to remember how he got there. Opening his eyes again, he furrows his brow and looked at Bruce.

Still sitting on the side of his bed, Bruce reads his confused expression, "How much do you remember?"

"I... I remember being on patrol in the Haven and..., Roy. Roy was there, and he was going on about something about the Easter Bunny and,... there was an explosion, and—" Realization and a hint of panic lit in his eyes and his hand suddenly clutched Bruce's arm. "ROY—There was and _explosion_ and Roy was out there!"

Bruce caught his partner by the shoulders as he was urgently trying to sit up, "Whoa; easy—"

"No, Bruce! Roy was there, too! He—"

"He's okay, Dick."

"What? No. He was right behind me when the building—"

"Young sir, please..." Alfred aided Bruce in trying to keep his disoriented and confused charge from moving to fast, but the more they resisted against his efforts to sit up, the more agitated he became.

"You're not getting it! I'm telling you Roy was—"

"Richard, enough!" Bruce barked as he gave Dick a gentle, yet firm jolt to snap him out of it before he reached full-blown panic mode. He leaned in close and locked his gaze with his son's, "Roy is O-k." He reassured him with an unwavering expression of certainty. "He's okay; Roy's okay."

Dick searched his mentor's eyes for a moment and, finding truth there, was able to push aside the surge of panic and focus better. "...He's ok..."

"He's fine."

"Because..., he was out there with me—"

"He's _fine_." Bruce assured his son while gently easing him back against the pillows that Alfred had re-fluffed. "He came to the cave after the explosion to seek our help in finding you. After the mission, he said to tell you he'd check in on you later. Alright?"

"Yeah, alright."

Bruce waited until Alfred finished fussing over the blankets, "What else do you remember?"

Dick tried to relax against the pillows, but his body remained tense, "... the explosion and then... waking up and, I was tied to a chair and...," Dick's brow knitted together in concentration as he searched the scattered bits of memory for a moment, "... and, Dent was screaming at me about... manners or something—." He broke off and shot Bruce a look, "You know... ya took a lot longer to get there than I expected."

Bruce arched an eyebrow; almost amused, "You should have been out of there long before I arrived."

"Master, Dick." Alfred interrupted, to head off what he saw as the potential for hot tempers to spark a regretful confrontation. He bent over his patient and pretended to check his brow for fever, "Do you need anything? How is your comfort level? Are you at all hungry?"

Dick knew he was cranky—he also knew Alfred was running interference and decided to drop the issue for the moment. Besides, he was too wiped out to argue. Instead, he took a careful assessment of his injuries and realized he'd been given some sort of pain reliever. Not the one Tim gave him in the alley. No. He could feel side effects with whatever he was on and as much as he hated narcotic painkillers, he knew there hadn't been enough R&D done on the strips to use them for an extended period of time.

Accepting help from Alfred, Dick raised up a bit to sit as upright as his sides would allow. "Um, I guess I'm okay at the moment, but, " he winced as he swallowed, "some hot tea would be nice."

"Right away, sir." Alfred said with that same, old, comforting smile and patted Dick's shoulder.

He waited until Alfred left the room before he tugged at the covers to find his right leg was in a brace, "How bad is it?" he asked while gently probing his knee with his finger.

Bruce sat back in the overstuffed wing-back chair and exhaled, gesturing toward Dick's leg, "Not great, but could be worse. MRI showed a partial dislocation and the bones at the joint suffered a hairline fracture."

Dick moved the covers back into place, "Great. What else? Anything internal? And..., what time is it?" Dick asked, looking at the blackness outside his window.

"Nothing internal, Few broken ribs, few cracked, plenty of welts and bruising and your neck will be sore for a while—" Bruce looked at his watch, "10:37 pm. Wednesday."

Dick took a moment to process all the information he'd just been fed. "Wednesday... how long was I out?"

"Almost an entire day. Let's see..." Bruce stretched his arms over his head, "we got back around four this morning so that makes it about eighteen and a half hours."

"Damn." Dick rested his head back against the pillows and draped an arm over his eyes. "I hate being out of it for so long."

"I know. But you didn't miss anything." Leaning forward, Bruce rested his arms on his knees. "Your body needs the rest."

"I know the speech."

"Good," Bruce smirked with a nod, "Then be a good boy, rest up for a few days, and don't make Alfred recite it."

"That, Master Bruce, may very well be the best piece of advice I have ever heard you give the lad." The butler declared as he reentered the room. Setting the tray down on a nearby table, he began to pour Dick a cup of tea. "Of course, If ever you were to heed your own advice, I fear my heart would not be able to withstand the shock." Alfred handed Dick the cup with a wink.

Dick peeked out from behind his arm and smirked. He accepted the tea and winced during the first couple of drinks, "Where's Tim?" He asked after a few minutes.

"Finishing up on something in the Cave— and before you ask, he's fine, too."

"Yeah, I remember him driving me back." Dick said quietly while staring into his cup, suffering from a sudden wave of exhaustion.

"I dare say, young sir," Alfred softly said and gently plucked the cup from Dick's hands, "I think it would be best if we left you to rest for a bit."

Dick blinked as the cup was slowly pulled away and discovered that he'd zoned out. He turned tired eyes to the man he loved as a grandfather and willingly accepted his aide in scooting back down in the bed. He closed his burning eyes and sighed as he sank into his pillows.

"As always, if you require anything at all, simply call," said Alfred while nodding toward the intercom button on his nightstand.

"k, Alfie. Thanks."

Alfred winked warmly as he lifted the tray and began to exit the room.

"I'll check on you before I head out tonight." Bruce said and gave Dick's foot a gentle pat as he crossed in front of his bed. He saw Dick begin to give him a half-smile before his body's need for rest out-weighed his attempt to stay awake and he zonked out.

Alfred waited for Bruce to exit the room before he closed the door without a sound. As they made their way down the grand staircase in silence, Alfred tried to busy his mind with daily duties instead of entertaining the worry and concern that plagued him every time one of his boys were injured.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Bruce headed for his study and Alfred turned toward the kitchen. The older gentleman felt conflicted as one thought demanded his attention above all others. With a sigh, he gave in and gave it life: _"I'll never get used to this."_ He leaned heavily against the kitchen door as he opened it, _"Never."_


End file.
